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“Because I’ve spent my whole life trying to make that man love me. And he never, ever will.”
He tugs at his tie like it’s choking him.
“I don’t want you to make that same mistake,” he continues. “I thought maybe if you saw it, too…” He trails off.
I wait for more. But Kir just shakes his head slowly, as if he’s given up on finding the right words.
“I’ll take you back to your brother now.”
He moves toward the door without waiting for my response. I rise from the metal chair on legs that feel like they belong to someone else and follow him out of the observation room.
We leave the dead screen and all its ugly truths behind.
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RAE
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Jillian(03:01): I know you hate me right now, but [...]
Kir doesn’t try to make conversation as we ride back. He sits behind the wheel, eyes vacant, posture brittle. The glow from the dashboard illuminates his sharp features in pale blue light.
He looks younger like this. Less like a corporate prince and more like a tired soldier who’s wasted away his life fighting a war he never asked for.
I ought to hate him, shouldn’t I? Yeah, I think I should. I probably will, eventually, once I have the energy for it. But right now, all I can muster is a dull, throbbing numbness that’s settled into my bones like a low-grade fever.
We park and take the elevator up. When we reach the apartment door, Kir produces the key and unlocks it. He pushes it open but doesn’t follow me inside.
“I’ll have someone bring food in the morning,” he says. “Get some sleep.”
I don’t respond or even look at him. I just walk through the door and let it swing shut behind me.
Gideon is exactly where I left him, perched on the edge of the couch like he’s been waiting in the same spot this whole time. Like before, his head snaps up the moment I step inside. Whatever he sees on my face makes the color drain from his.
“Rae?” He’s on his feet in an instant, jogging across the room toward me. “What happened? What did he show you?”
I could explain, and I’d like to. The words are there, somewhere, tangled up with all the hurt and humiliation. But every time I try to grab hold of them, they slip through my fingers.
Did you ever love her?
No.
She was a distraction.Nothing more.
My face crumples. I don’t mean for it to happen here, in front of him. I’ve been trying so hard to hold it together, to be strong. I’m supposed to be the big sister who has all the answers. That’s what I promised Mom, after all.
But my body betrays me, and suddenly, I’m crying so hard I can’t breathe.
Gideon doesn’t ask any more questions. He just opens his arms, and I collapse into them.
He’s taller than me now—when did that happen? Somewhere in between the relapses and the treatment centers, my little brothergrew up. His arms wrap around me, solid and warm, and I bury my face against his shoulder.
“Hey,” he murmurs into my hair. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you.”
That just makes me cry harder. Because didn’t Lukas promise me the same thing? He held me just like this, stroked my hair just like this, and whispered those exact same reassurances into the dark while I trembled against his chest.
